The murky fog made it difficult to see where the forest ends and the road starts. It was late dusk but the tree lined road had trees whose branches sheltered the road from any sunlight. Twilight was soon approaching so the walk became darker and darker. To the left of me was a forest and to the right was even more forest, the trees were so close together you couldn’t see anything only black shadows. As I walked along that long and lonesome road, I kept my mind blank and tried not to creep myself out. I looked up at the canopy above me, and to the left and the right of me, I really am surrounded by trees, I thought. That one narrow road in the centre of an intimidating forest was probably used by travellers, strolling players and traders wondering from one market or village to another. Or maybe the road was used by cunning highwaymen gunning down their victim to either take their money and goods or their lives.

I tried to keep my mind blank to drown out the whispers of the trees enclosed on me. Imagine all the secrets those trees new, every secret about every person who strolled down that road. If trees could talk would they tell us everything or remain quiet as they did now? Would they tell us about all the events that happened there that they have witnessed? The mercenaries, highwaymen and robbers who murdered all of the travellers, strolling players and tradesmen were forever watched by the surrounding eyes of the tightly packed trees. There were murders on this road, I thought, in this very spot where I’m walking. Oh stop it. I was starting to scare myself.

I listened around. There was no wind. No birds. No crickets. Why is it so quiet? No noise. It was just me, the surrounding forest and my thoughts. I had forgotten about the murky fog I was in. It had become even denser. Quickly it became almost too thick to see through. I couldn’t feel any wind but the bushes and branches behind me were rustling. I quickened my pace. The forest seemed to go on forever. Every tree was identical and the rustling followed me like a creature running through the bushes. I couldn’t understand how the bushes would rustle without the wind. Is something following me? Or someone?

I flinched as a huge branch suddenly snapped and echoed through the forest. It rang in my ears and I immediately stopped in my tracks. I stood there frozen to the spot. I did not move a muscle and I could feel my heart pounding so loudly. I strained my ears to listen for any movement behind me. I sensed the presence behind me. Someone was following me. I started walking subconsciously. I pressed on in a straight line and quickened my pace. They quickened. I slowed down to hear their footsteps but they sped up. I panicked. I ran down the pitch dark road. I ran between the forests either side of me. I ran over the cobbles of the road, which hurt my feet as I sprinted without thinking. I didn’t want to think. I didn’t want to turn around. I knew I would freeze if I saw somebody behind me. I was exhausted and couldn’t even tell where my feet were going. I slowed down slightly but tripped on a loose cobble lying upright on the road. I fell to the ground and smashed my right elbow on the cobbled ground. I cursed my clumsiness. The road was damp from the fog and cold to the touch. I sat up and examined my elbow as much as I could. It was dark so I tried to make my eyes see more clearly but failed. My elbow was throbbing with pain and for a few moments I forgot about the follower. As I stood up I searched for any figures. There was no one here. I either out ran them or I imagined it.

I took two steps back and bumped into what looked like a sign post made of extremely old rotten wood. I couldn’t make out what some of it said at first but what I could make out said ‘The Old Mill’. A mill. Excellent. Human beings. Or at least a safe place to be. I could just stay there till dawn; surely it wasn’t a long way off, I thought. I had walked down that road for hours. I looked up at the sign, it pointed diagonally through the forest. At first I thought somebody may have bumped it to point away from the road but then as I followed where it was pointing I saw there was a path buried and entrapped by thorns, nettles and bushes. It must have been a shortcut, or a walker’s trail. I didn’t know whether to follow the road onwards or risk getting hurt by thorns and nettles and follow the trail to the safety of a mill. I thought it over for a minute, still facing the horizon of the road. I was about to leave and follow the cobbled road onwards when a dark shadow loomed over me. I saw it appear on the floor in front of me. I could sense that someone was behind me. No. It didn’t feel like someone, I thought. It didn’t feel human. I just stood there, frozen, staring at the shadow that did not belong to me.

A fog-like smoke floated around my feet clearly visible through the previous fog. In only a short amount of time did it completely cover my feet and the strange shadow. I could still sense that something was behind me. If it wanted to kill me wouldn’t it have done so already? I thought. So I inhaled a big breath and swung around sharply to see what was behind me. There was nothing here. No person. No killer. No inhuman monster out to get me. My eyes searched my surroundings looking for anything, anything at all. I felt so happy. I smiled. I turned and looked at the trees next to the sign post. I was trying to see through the trees as far as I could but it was just darkness.

A sudden chill flew through the air which wiped the grin off my face as fast as a pendulum swung. I was still staring through the darkness between the trees when, I don't know what, but a shadowy, smoky demonic face came hurtling towards me. The face felt as if it literally went through me and I screamed as I saw my fears before my eyes. The impact threw me onto the floor. I sat there dazed and petrified as I pulled myself together, struggled and scurried to get up and ran as fast as I could through the thorn entrapped trail heading towards the mill. I have never run so fast in my life. I just kept running. The fears and the face were still burned into my mind. My legs were being scratched and my trousers were ripped in many places. I was bleeding everywhere. As I ran through the forest following the trail, I ran up and over a small hill. As my eyes adjusted to light there it was; the old mill. I’m nearly there, I thought. Come on. The nettles and thorns disappeared and the forest floor turned into soft grass. I was in open air. No forest just an old mill. I still pictured that demonic face. I was still petrified. I could still hear rustling in the forest. Maybe that face was following me again, I thought. No. Not again.

I finally reached the mill. I stammered to open the huge barn doors. I pulled up the heavy wooden bolt. Opened the door and raced in. I walked away from the door, backwards. Nothing is going to hurt me here, I thought. I’m safe. My heart was pounding so loudly I thought it would explode. I heard a low rumbling behind me. I slowly and hesitantly turned around. A huge strange shadow emerged from under the door. It glided slowly towards me. I stepped backwards against the wall. There was nowhere to go. It came closer. And closer. And closer. It was like nothing I ever saw. I was cornered, trapped. The shadow was at my feet now. It sucked itself up through my legs. It froze me to the spot. Tears were running down my face as it made its way up through my body. It felt like it was sucking everything out of me. The pain was excruciating, unbearable. I could feel the shadow flowing through my veins but felt like sharp knives instead of an untouchable shadow. The monster flowed up through my bloodstained legs. Through my hips. Through my torso. My heart stopped. No heart beat. It made its way up my neck and into my skull. As it hit my brain it felt like it was sucking all the life out of me. It floated out of the top of my head and as the last inch of the shadow left my body I fell to the ground. Nothing. No heart beat. No life. No warmth. No soul.

That’s what it does. The Wraith. It takes multiple forms to manipulate its victims but it’s commonly seen in its shadow form. Either as a stalking shadow upon the ground or a rotting corpse in the guise of a shadow. The Wraith does not know the meaning of mercy, by causing unbearable pain, it sucks the soul out of your body and your body disappears into the ground. The Wraith takes your body to feast on in the underworld. All that is left is your shadow imprinted into the ground. Permanently.

Credit To – Gina Hollaway

’ve spent a good portion of my life out in the Australian bush, enough time that there is very little left out there that can surprise or scare me. I’ve tussled with massive scrubber bulls and lived to tell the tale and I’ve even come across good sized king brown snakes and funnel web spiders that would send most city people running with their tail between their legs.

I’ve learnt not to be so arrogant about knowing the bush now. The land has proven that it still holds many secrets, most of which aren’t meant to be known.

It started during 2011, right at the end of the wet season. We had only just started work again seeing as flooding and dangerous conditions made most work too risky. There was enough grass and water for the cattle so it wasn’t a concern other than to worry about how much stock we lost to the flood water.

The first thing that indicated that something was wrong was rather innocuous. We started finding dead cattle in the paddocks.

We didn’t think much of it at the time, merely hauled the carcasses away the minute we could get to them. Young stock die all the time after all, whether it was snakes or feral dogs or even just exposure to the elements we weren’t sure. We just assumed it was nothing and continued with our jobs.

Then a pair of horses died, along with one of the cattle dogs. A snake bite could have explained it, after all there are multiple poisonous reptiles in the outback but it was the way we found the carcasses that made us scratch our heads.

They’d been torn apart.

Feral dogs didn’t come near the house where we kept the dogs and horses, even those with a lot of dingo blood in their veins were wary of humans. But what else could it have been? Australia isn’t one for large land predators.

It soon became nothing but campfire talk however as weeks passed without any more signs of the elusive predator. We were starting to get into mustering season and as such had hired a few farmhands and jackaroos to help with the cattle and didn’t have time for idle conversation.

It was on one of these musters that the creature struck again. Not a cow or a horse this time but one of the jackaroos. He went galloping into the scrub to chase out a few stray steers and although the cattle came racing out to join the mob that was starting to form he and his horse didn’t.

We searched for him but never found any sign of him. People were starting to grow worried about whatever it was that lurked in the darkness. We were far from civilisation with nothing but our horses and saddlebags on us.

We heard the feral dogs howling that night. There were a fair few on the station, most with a strain of dingo in them. Pure dingoes were rare now on the mainland but all of us slept with a gun in our hands. We doubted it was a dingo that was causing all the trouble but what else could it have been?

One of the men with us seemed extremely anxious. He was aboriginal in origin and had been raised on the native folklore of bunyips and demon dingoes which he relayed to us over the fire. We laughed it off of course; native stories have always been treated that way unfortunately.

Either way he wanted us to head straight back to the house which was still a few days travel from us.

The following day was silent. We remarked on it as we rode for such silence was unusual in the bush. There were always cockatoos and other birds causing a ruckus along with a multitude of insects. Lizards would sunbathe on red rocks and skitter away when disturbed. There was nothing at that moment, the land appeared dead.

The horse and cattle seemed skittish, tossing their heads as the whites of their eyes showed. One large bull took off from the mob, racing into the undergrowth with a bellow.

As I was the one closest to it I was the one who had to take off after it. I moved warily, not scared of the predator who seemed to be stalking us but of the bull itself. They were dangerous when cornered after all.

I wasn’t the only one after the bull I soon learned as a dingo raced free from the undergrowth and bowled into the bovine. I’d never even seen a pack of feral dogs take down a bull in the prime of its life but here was a single canid doing so without any trouble.

It was obviously a dingo; no dog could ever come close to having the same presence as the rust coloured wild dog that was native to Australia. It was massive though, more than twice the size of a normal dingo.

And its eyes… it looked up when the bull fell limp, eyes the red of the desert sand and burning with the strength of a flame. Its teeth were bloodied as it bared them at me, stalking forward with its tail raised.

I was frozen, staring at the monstrous dingo in shock. Thankfully my horse was less so and with a panicked whinny my mount turned and galloped as if demons were at its heels. I could hear the dingo snarling behind me but didn’t glance back until I was free from the scrub and at risk of out pacing the men I worked with.

The scrub was still, as dead as a grave. Whatever that thing (for it can’t have been a dingo, no dingo looked like that thing had) had given up the chase.

I never spoke of what happened that day, no matter how many questions people plied me with. I also refused to look at the rock art on our property, the ochre pigments worn with age. The yellow was faded but the shape was still distinguishable. It appeared that it had been wrong of me to ignore the native tales.

The rocks proved that with an age old painting of a massive dingo with ruby eyes.

Credit To – Cassandra Wolfe

It’s odd the things we remember sometimes. I was walking down the toy aisle a couple days ago, looking for something to give my two (soon to be three) year old niece for her birthday. Everything was brightly colored and cheerful, starting with a turtle with a head that bobbed up and down when you pulled his tail and ending with what looked like a mash-up between a dragon and a fairy princess colored all in pink. And there, dead center in the middle of the aisle, was a loosely gathered bunch of Care Bear toys.

Cloying and sweet, their eyes stared up at me, as if to say what a wonderful gift they would be for a small girl of three. I reached down and picked up the dark blue Grumpy Bear. Of all the bears he has gone through the least changes over the years. I think it’s because his mind is the strongest. He’s had no need to change his shape or form to keep his sanity.

I put the bear back down and gazed at it. Odd thing to think. But then, it was an odd Care Bear tale I had seen too. Or maybe thought I saw, the whole thing has the quality of a fever dream to it, which is appropriate since I was sick at the time. And as I looked at the little storm cloud on his tummy I remembered.

It was a sunny March afternoon. A temperature of 101 and vomitting had kept me home from school that day. I had passed the worst stages of my sickness earlier in the morning and I was now thoroughly enjoying myself on the couch, consuming anything the TV would throw my way. My mom had left to run some errands, so I was alone in the house. Normally I would have abused this freedom by raiding some ice cream out of the freezer. I was too tired though and still felt slightly nauseous.

That might explain why I didn’t change the channel when the brightly colored bears came on. At nine years old, I had far passed the age where Care Bears would have been an okay thing to watch. But tired and still slightly sick, I let it play. I remember the villain was someone called Professor Coldheart. He looked like a cheap Mr. Freeze knockoff, with frozen blue skin, white hair, and a paedo stare. His whole thing was that he hated feelings… because. Honestly, he reminds me now of one of those stupid Captain Planet villains. Why did they pollute the environment? Because if they didn’t there wouldn’t be a villain to fight, duh! Maybe I’m expecting too much out of a show aimed at toddlers though.

There was a lot of back and forth about feelings with the fuzzy little mascots going on and on about joy and caring. And, sick or not, I was getting up to change the channel because I was going to be sick if I had to hear to the word caring one more time. And then Professor Coldheart pulled out a large black book. “But they have promised me, if I call them, they will end all feelings!” Coldheart exclaimed opening the book.

The little bears all seem confused. All except Grumpy Bear. “Care Bears, don’t let him read from that book!” he exclaimed. “Tender Heart, call for the stare!”

A little reddish brown bear with a heart on his tummy nodded. “Care Bears, line up!” he called. But even as he did, Coldheart began to chant. I sat on the floor and watched, wide-eyed. I couldn’t understand a word he was saying. No, that’s a lie. Or rather, it’s not entirely true. He wasn’t speaking English. He wasn’t speaking any language I’ve ever heard. But my mind was forming pictures. And they weren’t happy . They involved large black masses that ate the stars and writhing and squirming things long enough to wrap around the world.

Tender Heart faltered, with a hand to his head, and the other bears quickly followed suit. “They lie in wait for the stars,” I heard Tender Heart mutter.

A cavernous portal opened behind Coldheart, and he giggled, a giggle full of madness and no glee. Grumpy Bear stood up and stared at it in horror. Shadowy things that flickered on the edge of vision began to appear on the screen, coming from the opening. Looking back, it was some fantastic animation, I haven’t seen its like since. The shadowy things were reaching forward for the bears. Grumpy Bear’s tummy glowed and he summoned forth several thunder clouds. He used them to set up a protective barrier for the bears, lightning arcing from them and sizzling the shadowy things as they closed in.

It wasn’t going to be enough though, and although I would’ve been ashamed to admit, my little nine year old self was kind of scared. The shadowy things bore a very strange resemblance the things flicking through my own head now. Grumpy Bear looked from Coldheart to the Bears, and then, I swear to God, straight at me. I mean, I know he was just animated to be looking at the “camera”, but it felt like he could see me, and whoever else was watching, feel our fear. He nodded. “I have to break the connection,” he said, turning back to Coldheart. He closed his eyes and concentrated, tummy lighting up brighter than I had ever seen.

A gigantic thunder cloud appeared above them, filling the entire building. Coldheart looked up at it in awe. Then, a gigantic lightning strike fell from the cloud. At first I thought it was going to strike Coldheart. Instead, it fell at his feet. He screeched and jumped backwards, losing his balance. And when he did, he fell backwards, into the portal behind him, still holding the black book. There was a mighty clap of thunder and the screen turned white. For a moment I wondered if we’d had a power surge that hurt the TV. After a few moments it cleared though. Grumpy Bear was going to each bear now, picking them off the floor, patting them on the back, saying a few encouraging words.

“I can’t live with it,” a green bear with a clover on his belly said. “I saw things, so many things.”

“Don’t worry, Good Luck,” Grumpy said, patting the bear’s back. “You won’t have to. None of you will.”

Then it rolled to credits. I crawled back over to the couch and hauled myself back up. I was slightly disappointed. I wanted to know what Grumpy meant.

But, I pushed it from my mind. It was just a Care Bear episode after all. I remember the first movie came out slightly afterwards, serving as a sort of reboot to the franchise. No more Coldheart and a whole bunch of different pastel colored animals to play with along with bears. I never saw the episode again and never bothered seeking it out.

13 years later found me an English Literature class at an out of state college. It was one of those classes where everyone from freshmen to seniors could be found in it. I was in my senior year and had just needed a random class to fill out my general education block. For some reason, at the end of class, a bunch of us got to talking about shows we used to watch when were little. The subject eventually turned to the Care Bears.

“Y’know, I saw the strangest episode when I was nine,” I said. I quickly outlined the dramatics with Coldheart and the book. Everyone stared at me like I had gone off my gourd. “Are you sure you just didn’t hallucinate it?” a guy to my right we called the Patster said.

“Wait, he’s right!” a blonde freshman named Cally exclaimed. “But it wasn’t Coldheart, it was No Heart.”

“Who the heck is No Heart?” I asked, turning to her.

“He’s the main villain from the Nelvana series, the one that came after the DiC episodes. He had a black book like you said. And all the bears seemed confused except Grumpy. He was flipping out. And Noheart called all his shadowy monster things the Young Ones.” She laughed. “I don’t know how it ended. It actually scared me enough I changed the channel.” She shook her head. “It was Care Bears, though, so how bad could it have been?” She became thoughtful for a second. “It was near the end of the Nelvana run though. Might have even been the last episode.”

“Yeah, I vote both of you are nutty than the nuthouse,” Patster said, and the group laughed in agreement.

The conversation piqued my curiosity though. The school had some computers that were free for students to use that ran at the blazing fast dial-up speed of 56 kbps This was back in 1998, so the Internet was not the insta-answer place it is now. Hell, Google was stilled called Google Beta and I viewed it with suspicion because it was new. I ended up using Yahoo. And let me tell you, it’s not much better now than it was then. A couple hours of searching left me with no clues. I could find no mention of either Cally’s episode or mine anywhere.

I let it lie there. There have been a couple series since then. Bears have come and gone, but Grumpy has always been there from what little I’ve seen, largely unchanged. Sometimes I wonder if there are others out there who saw strange episodes as each series finished out. Deep down– I don’t really want to know. I think if I did know I’d have to accept some facts I really don’t want to.

Snapping out of my revere, I got ready to leave the toy aisle. I turned back one last time to look at the Bears. And then, almost on impulse, I reached down and picked up the Grumpy Bear. Perhaps I owed him that much. And perhaps there were worse things that could snuggle next to my niece as she slept.

Credit To – Star Kindler

Nathaniel  H. Jackson’s Journal
November 11, 1911

I had never intended on venturing into that cave. That cave where no one ever dared to go near. I remember when I was a child how my friends and I would play around the property border. Back then, the cave was on a plot of land that belonged to my uncle. He did not let anyone trespass, not even his own family. He hated his brother (my father) and didn’t do anything with the 200 acres until he died. Naturally, all of the land was an untamed wilderness.

When my uncle died, my parents had already been gone a long time. Being that I was the eldest in my bloodline, the property went to me. Whether my uncle wanted me to have it or not I will never know.

With the inheritance from my father, I had a lovely estate built on the property and am in the midst of cleaning up the land. Considering I don’t need too much space, I am also in the process of selling parts of the land.  I have had no trouble doing so. The property, as it turns out, is quite pleasant with a bit of grooming. The cave is the only exception.

I cannot determine whether they are wolves or coyotes but they do pose a threat. There is also the reason I began to investigate the cave in the first place. There is some sort of creature living in the cave. While there is probably a very logical explanation for what is in there, the legend behind it goes back several decades.

During the war, a group of Confederate soldiers marched through the territory which I own today. They found the cave and decided to camp there for the night. One man, who suffered from somnambulism, walked deep into the cavern while still asleep. He walked right up to a drop-off in the cave and fell about 200 feet. When the other men woke the next morning, they did not find their friend and went looking for him in the cave. When they came to the drop-off, they heard what they believed to be the voice of Satan himself.

I have heard and told this scary story many times. It has never affected me the way it does now. While the wild dogs are a problem, the legend also scares off potential buyers. I thought it in my best interest to find out what is in that cave and drive it out.

I have gathered some rope (a little more than 200 feet), some flares, an oil lamp, and my pack to carry it all in. Finally, I shall bring my father’s rifle, which I have only ever used on quails, and hope that it will be enough to protect me against any wild hounds. I will discover what exactly lurks in the cave first thing tomorrow morning.

November 12, 1911

It is difficult to write, for my hand is still shaking and my heart has not stopped racing. I did in fact encounter a malevolent being in the cave. I cannot say what I saw for in reality I saw nothing, but I fear I will never again be truly at peace after today’s venture.

I had left the house this morning at around five O’ clock and had taken the automobile as close as I could get it to where the cave was. The vehicle could not drive over the brush, so I set out on foot. From there, I was only about a mile away from the cave. As I was on my way, I realized what an effort it would take to make this land attractive to buyers. Several tall, dead trees are scattered across the land and refuse to fall. Their grotesque branches cast a grim feel over the land. The grass is up to my midriff and the insects are really quite terrible. I told myself that if I did not find anything remarkable about the cave that day then I would forget about the land around it entirely.

I made it to the cave unscathed but still annoyed at the swarm of bugs I had met on my journey. There were less bugs around the cave, which I was thankful for. It was still early in the morning but I wanted to get home as soon as possible. With relative precaution, I entered the cave.

The mouth of the cave was a bit of a squeeze, but I am somewhat slim and was able to maneuver my way through. As I went deeper into the cave, the ground slowly changed from rough soil to hard stone and the walls grew further apart. I did not need my lamp at first, for the light of the rising sun reached deep into the cave. There were no stalactites to worry about and the roof of the cavern was about eight feet up. I was beginning to feel a little disappointed. This legendary cave did not seem to have any significance at all. There was no light in the area ahead, so I picked up a small rock and threw it. To my surprise, I did not hear it land as soon as I thought it would. Instead, I heard it impact very far away.

My heart began to thump with excitement. I lit the oil lamp with a match and walked forward. Sure enough, just like in the old story, a steep cliff lied before me. I am not afraid of heights, but I did not want to fall into the abyss where no one would ever find me. I placed the lamp on the floor and lay myself flat on my stomach. I inched forward to get a better look at what was down there. I peeked my head over the edge to look down. It was pitch black. I would need to climb down.

With the tools I had brought, I hammered cleats into the stone floor and fastened my rope to them. I began to descend. I held my lamp in one hand and gripped the strong chord with the other. My pack held the flares and the rifle. For about five minutes I steadily lowered myself down into the darkness. I listened for any noise from below, but there was nothing. As I delved deeper, I began to wonder how facile it would be to return to the surface.

When the bottom of my boot touched the ground, I let out a sigh of relief. My lamp was still lit and the rope was still tethered to the surface. I looked around a good bit and walked forward. It was as though I was walking through an empty field at night. The air around me felt almost open and I could’ve sworn I felt a faint breeze. However, the ground was barren as a tile floor and the silence was quite ominous.

My brief amazement had distracted me. I really should have used some sort of marking system. When I was finally struck with reality, I found myself lost in the nothingness. A slight panic overcame me as I looked around, unable to determine which direction I had come from. I wandered in the vacuum and the silence, feeling like a helpless toddler. It was then that I stumbled upon the notebook.

I had felt something under my shoe and retraced my steps to find a small, leather journal. I picked it up and held it close to my lamp. The cover read one name: DANIEL RODRICK. I thumbed through a couple of pages and read one of the entries near the middle.

June 17, 1862
I had to see the doc today. He told me I got some namalism. I dont know what he meaned at first but he told me its just a fancy word for sleep walking. I dont need a doc to tell me I been sleep walking. I been doing it sinse I was a kid. Anywho the doc wants me to take these special pills to stay asleep. I gotta pack a whole bunch befor I leave tomorow.

I froze after reading that entry and closed the notebook. I had just found the journal of a man who sleep walks in a cave where a similar man is said to have died. As I stood there, in the midst of the nothingness, I heard the noise that will haunt me for as long as I live.

At that very moment, there came a low hissing sound. I have never been to the Arctic Circle, yet I felt my blood turn as cold as the ocean water that runs through it. A shiver ran down my spine and I nearly dropped the lamp from my trembling hand. Clutching the notebook and my oil lamp, I ran.

I ran as far as I could from the noise, but it did not cease. The hissing only grew louder and louder. I was looking straight ahead as I sprinted, not daring to look behind me. I was so blinded by genuine terror that I did not see the rough stone wall as I barreled into it. The force of the impact was so great that I shattered my lamp into a thousand tiny pieces and shards of glass.

I hit my head rather hard on the wall, but stood up immediately. Complete darkness. I put my hands to the wall and frantically walked parallel to it, moving to the right. I thought my heart would give out when I finally felt the familiar, coarse feel of my rope. I took a moment to steady myself, for I was breathing heavier than I ever had before.

When my breathing calmed, I realized that it was completely silent once more. I let out a small laugh, unsure if it was a laugh of relief or hysteria. Still clutching the rope with my right hand, I turned and put my back against the wall. My eyes might have been just as useful closed. There was only black. I stared into the darkness, my breathing now having gone almost silent. I could’ve turned around at any moment and ascend back into sanity. However, an unknown force kept me staring into the nothingness, expecting something more…

Something right in front of me began to hiss.

This hissing was the most horrifyingly vile sound to ever enter my mind. Whatever was before me was large and could strike fear into death itself. How I got out of that treacherous cavern is beyond my understanding. My memory of escape is smeared by the sound of that demon. That monstrous entity should have finished me off right then and there in that cave with my back against the wall. However, I came home today knowing that that beast wanted me to live in fear for trying to exploit it.

In the end, letting me live was the greatest torment that the monster could have bestowed upon me. It is now my curse to live with the memory of what the devil itself sounds like.

Credit To – Nicolas MF Morton

“What the fuck did I just read?”

- Pretty much everyone.

FanBoy97: Journal entry 1.)

Oh, how no one understands the dark brooding angst stirring in my loins! I couldn’t concentrate in school again today, thoughts of Him distracted me from my composition writing class. How could I possibly worry about the fundamentals of English grammar stuff stupid when there’s a tall sexy devil stalking the spooky nights? I wish He would stalk me.  I know “some” people would say that I am a silly pants; that He would devour my soul or drive me to madness… but they don’t understand Him like do. I know He would not do this to me. And how could He? I’m His “biggest” fan. Oh well, I suppose I’ll just have to prove them all wrong.

FanBoy97: Journal entry 2.)

Woe is me. Must I be alone for all eternity? Doomed to wander the cruel world in my misunderstoodedness? I spent the entire afternoon in the cemetery after school today, drawing the sacred symbol on each and every tombstone, the circle of darkness with the ‘x’ of also darkness, awaiting for Him to run into my arms. I even wore my outfit, my extra special Sailor Moon miniskirt and thigh high socks. I must have ridden my tricycle around those gave stones a thousand times before I ran out of Hi-C. How could He not be enticed by me? Am I not enticing? Of course I am, it must have been those fart faces who showed up and interrupted my unholy ritual. The called me names, really mean names that cut into my soul like razors. I tried not to cry, but I could not stop myself. “If you don’t stop… shouldn’t make fun of the black forces that dwell within me!” I yelled at them before they started throwing bananas at me. Bananas that cut deeper than any black razor of black blackness. I road my tricycle home as fast as I could. On the way I checked my vampire Pikachu watch, IT WAS ALMOST 6 O’CLOCK!!! My mom must have been worried sick! But then I got home and she gave me some spaghetti. Yummy!

FanBoy97: Journal entry 3.)

I just took a bubble bath, and now I need to check my emails for the rightful acceptance of my creepypasta submission. Let’s look… NOTHING! Anger and other dirty talk! How could it not be posted yet? I submitted it yesterday afternoon, how long do I have to wait for the world to see my spectacular greatness? I know, that jerky jerk face administrator is jealous of my uncanny ability to write epic tales of melancholy spookiness. Of course that’s what it is, nobody could pass up my masterpiece unless they were intimidated. It was called, “The grand adventures of the totally badass and in no way at all homoerotic sparkly vampires.” It was so awesome. I guess I’m just going to have to send that jerk a bunch of emails outlining why he’s such a jerk. Then he’ll see, they’ll all see. But it’s almost eight, and I need to snuggle into bed next to my Jeff the Killer body pillow and let my darky dark mind of darkness take me to the ultradarkness of dreamland.

FanBoy97: Journal entry 4.)

I woke up from that dream again, I just had to write it down this time. It was the one where I’m lying there still in my bed completely naked when the wind blows my bedroom window open, and then that beautiful slender body of His floats in, hovering above me, tempting me with the prospects of sweet sweaty passion.
“Come to me, sweet prince,” I say to Him as He lowers Himself gracefully, His black suit stretched tight across His lovely form.
“Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for you?” I ask him. He never says a word.
“Oh, the strong and silent type aren’t you?” I whisper into where His ear balls should be. “That’s okay,” I continue in the most seductive voice I can manage. “You don’t have to say a thing.” I pulled on His necktie, pulling His faceless face against mine. Then we start making out, AND IT WAS SEXXXXXY! Then after like, an hour, I whisper back into his ear balls, “How about you take off that suit and show me what those tentacles can really do…”
When I woke up my sheets were all sticky.

FanBoy97: Journal entry 5.)

OMG!!<333333!!!! I don’t even know to explain it, but after that hot sticky dream I just couldn’t go back to sleep. So I kinda just stayed awake and sent fifty complaints to that jerk faced administrator , when I got this sense you know? A most… arousing sense at that. I got this feeling that I needed to look out of my window, and when I did, I that it was… it was Him! Slenderman was watching me from across the street. I knew it was Him at once, He’s impossible to mistake. The tall, thin body in the most fabulous of suits. He was just standing there motionless, expressionless, beckoning to me… Oh shits! I better get back to the window, He’s still out there and I need to press my bare nipples against the glass to keep Him interested. I’ll come back later to write how it went. Oh God, I feel as giddy as a school girl at the gynecologist’s!

The Next Day…

Officer Stinson is standing at the scene of the crime, his partner, Officer Drake approaches him with a cup of coffee in each hand.
“So what in the hell and the hootenanny happened here?” Asks Drake as he glances over the carnage. Up high in a tree sectioned off by yellow hazard tape is the body of a young boy, his torso impaled on one of the many jagged braches. On the ground below him, there are several plastic bags filled with what is assumed to be some of the boy’s organs. They include; eyes, kidneys, liver, pancreas, gallbladder and several fingers. Officer Stinson hands his partner a piece of paper covered in blood.
“We found this nailed to the tree.” Says Stinson to Drake. “I think you know what it means.” Drake reads the note, each letter spelled out in crimson.
“No means no,” Drake reads aloud. “Great googally moogally! Not another one of these sickos! Must be the third one this year, and it does explain why the kid up there is wearing a dress.”
Officer Stinson looks back up into the tree. The boy is in fact still wearing his Sailor Moon outfit.
“Yeah,” Says Stinson, “We’re dealing with one twisted pervert here alright. We checked this kids journal earlier this morning. It looked like he was getting ready to try and date rape Slenderman.”
Drake shakes his head in disgust. “Sweet zombie Jesus. Kids these days, messin’ around on the interwebs, thinking that it couldn’t happen to them, then all of a sudden ‘ol Slendy gets sick and tired of being sexually harassed. Can anyone really blame him for resorting to this?”
Stinson looks down at his feet with a somber look on his face. “No, no I don’t think anyone really can. But we gotta look at it this way; at least for now, we can take comfort in knowing that this nightmare is finally over.”

Just then, the boy in the tree coughs out a spattering of blood.
“WHY? WHY DON’T YOU LOVE MEEEE?!?” He chokes out. Without hesitation, Officers Drake and Stinson pull their side arms from their holsters, emptying the clips into the whining fan boy. When the dust settles, Stinson looks back to Drake.
“Okay, now it’s over.”

Credit To – Stephan D. Harris

Based on a true story, 1983.

Liam was your average 28 year old. He worked, ate, slept and gamed, as well as spending time with his family. He lived in Limerick city with his wife Mary and his children Megan and Armen.

One rainy day he was playing a bit of Contra with the teenage Armen when he yelled out in pain. Clutching his wrist, it felt agonizingly painful and lumpy. Mary came in and examined it.

“It looks like you’ve snapped something dear,” she tutted worriedly. “You’ll need surgery.”

“Oh no,” started Liam. “I don’t do surgeons. Remember the whole knee reconstruction fiasco?”

“You were able to walk again eventually honey. Besides, I was thinking of a different guy. Amy told me of someone who helped her through her whole back problems.”

“Amy, huh? Is she the one.. no, yeah – is she the one who lost the child recently?”

“Poor dear, yes that’s her.”

“Alright, we’lll see her doc. What’s his name?”

“Dr. Laspen Varas. He’s Finnish or something.”

“Could you make an an appointment?”

******************************

Dr. Varas was a tall, kind looking man who made very bad jokes. His English was poor, and Liam had trouble deciphering him sometimes. Liam was being wheeled into the operating theatre, his family walking alongside him. Dr. Varas was going over some final details. He was also to be the anesthesiologist for the procedure.

“It just wrist surgery”, he explained to an apprehensive Liam. “Not like heart surgery.” He threw his head back and laughed. Liam smiled nervously. He turned to his kids.

“See you in a bit, Armen. You too Megan. Daddy loves you.” Armen said that he and his sister would be waiting outside, and he’d Look after her while Mum went to work. Megan at six years old was too busy with her thumb in her mouth to respond. There were tears in her eyes and she clung on to her mother’s leg. Mary kissed Liam gently, then said she’d check in on them all when she got off work at five.

They halted and waved as Liam was pushed into the operating room. He tried to wave back, but the pain in his wrist was worse than ever. He gasped as he was rolled through the door; the slight judder being enough to send waves of pain shooting up his arm. Dr. Varas hooked him up to the I.V, and began the slow process of knocking him out.

Dr. Varas kept up a stream of jokes and comments, likely trying to relax Liam who’s heart rate was extremely high. As the drugs began to kick in, shapes in the room became distorted, and Varas’ voice dropped in pitch. The room began to spin and Liam could no longer understand most of what the surgeon said. He picked up the odd sentence, but they made no sense through the haze of tiredness and the strong accent.

”I’m going to take some, and spill your water.”

Time slowed down and colors danced across his eyes. The last thing the surgeon said was yet another stupid joke.

“This surgery will cost you arm and an leg.”

Liam snorted softly. His final thought before drifting into unconsciousness was ‘If losing an arm would stop this pain in my wrist, then I could deal with it.’  Then his eyes rolled into the back of his head and his heart rate slowed.

***********************

He woke sluggishly. Some time had passed, that he could tell. His head hurt, yet more worryingly his wrist still did too. Badly. Why was he awake if he wasn’t fixed. Then his ears started working properly.

He could hear sobbing.

Female sobbing.

He slowly opened his eyes. The theater was dark, and empty except for the figure lying next to him, her face pressed into the bed.

It was Mary. He felt a surge of panic. His body felt numb.

“Mary!” he croaked. “What’s he done to me??” She raised her head. Her mascara was running down her face and her shoulders shook horribly.

“Nothing dear,” he whispered steadily. Then her voice rose as she cried out :

“He’s taken Armen and Meg!”

Credit To: Micha3l

A few years ago, a group of college kinds were getting ready for spring break. One informed the rest that his uncle who owns a cabin in the woods would be gone for the weekend, and gave them permission to use it as they wish.

Though one or two weren’t interested to stay in a run down old cabin for a weekend, they reluctantly agreed and took the trip.

They enjoyed their weekend and returned safely.

Credit To: Max C

DERPNOTE: This pasta is a Crappypasta Success Story. That means that it received enough upvotes during its time on Crappypasta for it to be posted on the main archive. You can find its Crappypasta entry here. Thanks, everyone!

Ok, I’m trying to calm down at the moment, but its locked in the next room bashing against the door. If it makes it through, I’m going to die. I’ll start at the beginning, and I’m hoping someone might be able to help me.

About a month ago, I submitted a creepypasta to this site, and didnt hear back from anyone, nor was it published. ‘oh well’ I thought, ‘either it wasn’t as good as I thought it would be, or they just haven’t accepted it yet. It’s not like if it gets ignored for a month, it will come back as a reanimated zombie corpse of a story and try to eat my brains…’ yeah, I bet that’s what you would think too!

Less than an hour ago, my desktop exploded and the tangled mess of words that formed my story burst out, lunging for my throat. Now, being the paranoid, zombie survivalist I am, I’ve always got a loaded handgun, and a baseball bat close by, just in case it turns out I’m right, and an undead army really is going to kill us all. So I shot it! I shot the first paragraph, I shot the second paragraph, I bashed every last word, and crushed every bit of pronounciation! But it didn’t stop. It just kept coming!

I lured it into the next room with my tasty tasty flesh, and have managed to lock it in there and bar the door, and I’m now writing this on my dodgy old laptop. I don’t know how long I’ll be able to hold that bad, zombified story at bay, and if this one comes back to life as well, well, I fear for humanities sake!

Credit To: Uforia

I was awoken by a low thumping sound. Startled, I sat up in bed but I could see nothing in the darkness of my room. No odd shapes. Thinking it was my imagination, I went back to sleep. But a few minutes later, the low thumping happened again. I opened my eyes and glanced at the clock next to my nightstand, it read 12:00 am.

Midnight, the witching hour. I snorted at the silly saying. I didn’t believe in such nonsense. I believed the thumping was probably an animal on the roof, all sorts of night animals tend to get up there. Especially at this hour. The sound had to be coming from above, and just sounds like it’s in my room.

I was about to close my eyes again, but suddenly the thumping happened again. Louder.

Ok, so now I’m a little creeped out. I never heard something so loud before. I shut my eyes tight and tried to fall back asleep. I wish my parents were home, they left earlier today to visit my sick grandma. And my older brother is spending the night with his girlfriend.

I almost wished Ashley was here. She’s this annoying airhead from my school, can’t stand her snobby attitude and it sucked she lived next door. At the moment though, I started wishing even she was here with me.

THUMP.

Oh god. I pulled the covers over my head and tried to ignore the sound. It has to be my imagination. Yep, just imagining it.

I shouldn’t have read so many creepypasta stories before falling asleep. Creepy stories from the site always give me nightmares.

An hour passed.

No more thumping. Good, starting to feel sleepy again. As I start to doze off, I hear the whisper.

“I have come for you…..”

My eyes shot open.

“I will feast on your soft flesh…”

I started to cry, that voice was real. There was something in the room with me.

“I will enjoy the sounds of your screams while I slowly peel off your skin…”

I didn’t want to look, but I felt like I had too.

My eyes tried to locate the smooth deep voice, the voice that was threatening horrid things.

I quickly spotted it.

He was at the foot of my bed. Even in the darkness, I could see how tall he was. And very pale.  His large black eyes glared down at me with such intense hatred. Why was he angry at me? I don’t understand, but did I even want to?

“Tonight, Ashley, you will die…” He whispered angrily.

I was about to scream, but then I realized something….did he just say Ashley?!

“I…I’m not Ashley!” I managed to shout at the pale man.

“…..You’re not?”  Asked the pale man, with a puzzled expression.

“Um, no. My name’s Erika, Ashley lives in the house next door.” I explained nervously.

The pale man stared at me for a moment, and then he pulled out a piece of paper from a pocket and studied it. With a look of annoyance, he stuffed the paper back in his pocket and smiled at me. Oh god, his smile. His mouth was too wide, and his teeth were sharp. Maybe even razor sharp.

“My deepest apologies. I was given the wrong information. Sorry to have disturbed your rest.” He said politely, and then I watched stunned, as he crawled out my bedroom window.

“Oh!” He popped his head back inside and grinned at me with that large scary grin. “I know this is rather strange, coming from me, but…would you like to maybe…catch a movie one of these days…or dinner perhaps?”

“…..I’m kind of already seeing someone…” I said.

“Oh, pity. Well have a good night!” He said as his head pocked back out.

I stood frozen for a bit. I couldn’t believe what just happened. Nobody would believe me!

Well it was gone now, whatever the hell he was. I finally breathed a sigh of relief, I was brave enough to finally move and went to close my window and lock it securely.

As I settled in to sleep, I realized something.

It was going to get airhead Ashley!

I was about to dart out of bed, but stopped.
Eh, she was pretty nasty to everybody. Not like she was somebody I cared for too.

Oh well, I thought, as I snuggled back into my warm blankets and went back to sleep.

Credit To: ErikaL.Lubo@yahoo.com

I was playing with a couple of my friends, walking down the empty streets of small town Bennettsville, South Carolina, when I noticed something out of place in a small alley way beside the town café. I paused, “Hey, is that a computer?” I asked, pretty much talking to myself but earning curious glances from my two friends. “I don’t know, go check it out Bun.” Emmy replied looking at the pile of electronic just inside the alley. I sighed, of course she would make me go look…

I walked carefully (as not to fall and bruise something like I always manage to do) and squatted beside the computer looking it over. That’s weird… The computer was completely unscathed, and seemed to be in pristine condition, even having all of its parts. I picked it up slowly and walked back to my friends, “Let’s go to my house and see if it works.” I said breathing a little deeper because of the effort of holding the computer. My other friend, Jeff laughed at my strained expression. “Let’s get something to carry it first.” He said looking around. Being a small town it wasn’t hard to find a small shopping cart rolling around in an abandoned shop.

We piled the computer into the shopping cart and headed back towards my house where we hooked it up and pressed the power button. At first there was nothing but the soft tap of rain against my roof and the whistle of wind across the rusty storm door. Emmy sighed, “Guess that is why they threw it away” She said disappointment apparent on her face. I was about to reply when suddenly the computer let out a soft hiss, like an angry animal, and the screen slowly began to fade white. There was no start up screen, only a white page with nothing else on it. Then a small file popped up in the middle of the screen, but we knew something was wrong when we saw it. Instead of a small manila folder like it usually has for files, this file was just a bunch of papers lying on the screen, covered in some rusty red color… I stared at the file for a moment… Under it there was a simple title “Blue.”

Emmy spoke uncertainly from where she watched over my shoulder, “I don’t like this…” I nodded silently unable to speak. Jeff on the other hand just grinned, “I wonder what it is!” He chirped excitedly. I could never understand how Jeff was always so happy about everything! His grin just widened as he saw my confused face “Click it!” He said leaning down closer over my shoulder. I bit my lip in apprehension but followed his orders double clicking the small file.

The file opened and showed two text documents with unreadable names and an mp3 file simply named “Blue” just like the folder. I looked at the weird text documents, trying to decipher a secret message in the symbols somehow. “This is really weird, click the song Cassie…” Emmy murmured softly, sounding unsure even to me. I rolled the pointer on to the songs icon but paused. “This doesn’t feel right …” I said feeling the urgent need to shut the computer off and to run away as fast as possible. Jeff just rolled his eyes and put his hand over mine on the mouse double clicking the mp3. I shivered at his cold touch and looked at the screen.

The screen stayed white for a moment, and then suddenly burst into color as pictures of a young boy played alongside a chilling song. I couldn’t understand the lyrics of the song and they seemed to be in a high pitched, almost vocaloid style voice. It had a sad, lonely, and melancholy tone to it, one that reminded me of my grandma, the one who died 5 years ago. Tears came to my eyes and I took a shuddering breath paying attention to the images, how is this possible? It was an mp3 file wasn’t it? Why are there pictures? I watched as the screen flipped from frame to frame. The first picture was that of a young boy smiling at the camera, next to him stood a woman whose eyes seemed to be dimmed… Almost as if she was, dead… Then it showed him sitting in the lap of a man who looked to be in his late 30′s. This man’s eyes held the same dimness as the woman’s, and his hand seemed to hang limply off the side of the chair. The last image was that of the young boy, he stood eyes dimmed just like the two before him, he looked around the age of 7 or 8 and he had a defeated look on his face. His pale eyes held nothing but an empty longing as he stared at us from the computer. This image had a static like texture and I realized it wasn’t an image, but a video… I heard Emmy and Jeff gasp from behind me as the boy blinked but I couldn’t take my eyes off of it… I couldn’t even breathe while I looked at him.

The boy took a step towards me and I just sat motionless, just barely hearing Emmy and Jeff’s screams to run; I watched as his hand reached towards me, that song playing in the background. I felt something warm drip down my face as his hand touched the screen. Just as I thought he would jump out of the computer out at me the screen turned pitch black and the song faded out with one last note. Everything was silent in the room except our breathing, suddenly a roar of clapping was heard coming from the computer and I jumped back, finally breaking away from the trance and back into reality. Jeff and Emmy seemed to have been pulled back as well because they ran from the door and back to me, I sat at the computer screen in confusion barely hearing anything. Their words were muffled and weak and yet they still hurt my ears. I turned and noticed that Emmy was crying; I looked at Jeff, “Why is she crying?” I asked taken aback at how low my own voice was. Jeff looked at me and grabbed my hand pulling me towards the bathroom. He dragged me to the mirror and pointed, I looked at the small mirror in shocked horror. My face was pale, almost as white as Jeff’s but not quite; My ears were still there but they had a small river of blood running down them, explaining how hard it was to hear; and My eyes held the same dead feeling that the boys did… I stared in terror at myself in the mirror; my reflection looked back no emotions passing through the thick wall of my eyes. “This can’t be happening…” I said touching my cheek. Jeff nodded “It’s happening alright…” Emmy walked in just then, “Guys… You might want to see this…” She said looking weary and frightened. Jeff and I followed her back into the spare bedroom where I put the computer and I noticed the computer had switched back on, but now the screen held no files. The only thing on it was a small timer slowly counting down the minutes… To what I don’t really know…

Current Countdown Time: 01Hour 39Minutes 03Seconds

We looked at each other uncertainly and then back at the timer. “What is it counting down to?” I asked the most obvious question. Jeff shrugged “Count down til self-destruction?” He asked chuckling lightly at his own joke. I shuddered and noticed something else… “What the hell! It’s not even plugged up!!” I said picking the energy cable up and holding it where they could see. Emmy shuddered and stepped back, “We need to get rid of this computer…” She said shaking her head. I nodded and noticed her usually tan skin was a pale white and her entire body seemed to be shaking. “I think you need to take a nap Emmy…” I said softly touching her shoulder. The second I touched her she collapsed. She fell limply to the ground and a pool of blood spread around her as she paled even more and all of the emotion drained from her face. All that was left was her eyes now a dim green color as they stared off into the distant nothingness. I let out a croaked scream and backed up, straight into Jeff. I spun and noticed that his features had contorted; he was no longer the happy go lucky teen I had known before. A huge grin spread across his pasty white skin and his wide eyes were bordered with black. He chuckled darkly and I stepped back tripping over Emmy’s body. “W-What the hell are you?” I asked, tears streaming down my blood stained cheeks. Jeff let out a small gasp as he realized I could see through his mask. But I didn’t give him any more time to react. I jumped up and ran towards the door slamming it behind me and running towards the woods next to my house. What the hell am I doing? I always get mad because in scary movies they run to the woods but now here I am and I do the exact same thing!? My legs burned with effort as I pushed myself onwards trying to run as fast as possible. Suddenly I swerve to the left and run smack into a large tree. I feel everything swirl around me and then… it was dark.

Current Countdown Time: 00Hour 09Minutes 23Seconds

I wake up a few minutes later and hear a crack from the woods around me. I sit up and terror runs through my veins like glass. Tears roll down my cheeks as I press my back to the tree and I close my eyes simply waiting for my end to come. I have no god to beg to, even if I did believe in him what were the odds I would make it to heaven with all the sins I have committed? I am sure that I have somehow managed to commit all of the 7 seven sins at least 5 times. Suddenly my heart began to pound loudly, so loud in fact that it drowned out all the sounds of the forest. BADUMP BADUMP BADUMP BADUMP… I listened to the sound of it as I slowly began to feel sleepy. I opened my eyes and saw Jeff standing right in front of me. I couldn’t think straight as I smiled at him, I felt so light and dreamy; almost like mist… Jeff gave me a huge smile and leaned down close so that his cheek touched mine and his breath tickled my ear. “That’s right…” He said softly, like a father tucking in his child. “Go to sleep…” With those finally words he plunged a knife into my stomach. But I didn’t even feel it as the countdown meter struck 0 and my eyes became dull. A ghost of a smile touched my face and I looked at Jeff with a chillingly dead expression. “Goodnight, Jeff…” I said my voice a hoarse scratchy sound. In the last second of my life I saw a look of shock fly across Jeff’s face as he looked at me. But then everything went dark…

Current Countdown Time: 00Hours 00Minutes 00Seconds

Credit To: Cassie G.